


Electric Green

by wordcraze



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Hybrid Harry, M/M, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcraze/pseuds/wordcraze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cat hybrid named Harry goes to live with Zayn and his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Zayn is five, and he’s wide-eyed with excitement because his dad has finally decided to take him to work. Zayn’s dad is a scientist, so in his young mind, he thinks of things like tubes, and strange bubbly potions, and maybe something like Frankenstein’s monster. Today, he feels important because everyone knows his dad, Dr. Yaser Malik, and Zayn is important by association. He stands up a little straighter as he struts down the hallways.

“Come look in here, son,” his father is grinning, and he’s opening a door to what looks like a playroom. Zayn perks up because he doesn’t expect to see a playroom in this big important building, so he rushes inside. But he skids to a stop because there are five other kids here already, all around his age. Zayn’s shy, and he’s not sure how he feels about this.

“Daddy?” he goes back to his father, and hides behind him. Zayn peers suspiciously at the kids, but his dad just chuckles and pats him on the head.

“They’re special, Zayn,” he tells him. “I’ll show you.”

Zayn doesn’t care about how special they are. He just wants to play with toys. But he clasps his hands behind his back and follows his father.

Yaser places a hand on one kid’s shoulder, gently pushing him to Zayn. “Zayn, this is Harry.”

Zayn looks closer, and he’s caught off guard by the boy’s large green eyes, but then he gasps. Harry doesn’t have human ears. He has small brown cat ears on top of his head, and they move. Zayn’s jaw drops a little when he looks down and sees a tail, swishing and curling.

He sees that all of the kids have ears and tails, and Zayn is so confused because humans don’t have that, and his mind is racing a mile a minute, and– Deep breath. He takes a deep breath, and he looks to his dad for an explanation.

\- - -

Zayn’s nineteen now, and he remembers the trip to his father’s work like it was yesterday. As a child, he loved the hybrids, and thought it was “cool” that his father and his team were experimenting with the mingling of human and animal cells. Each were born in an artificial womb, and all came out to be a success. Harry had been his playmate, and his favorite out of all the hybrids. After school, Zayn would go to his father’s work, just to be with Harry. They played together, learned together, napped together. A boy and his cat. But Harry wasn’t just a cat, he was human too, and Zayn’s young mind tried to work around it.

He was twelve when he asked, “Dad, what’s the point of hybrids?”

Yaser looked at his son, and lowered his glasses, “There’s never really a ‘point’ when it comes to this kind of science, son. We do it just to see. We do it to push the boundaries, and see what happens. Sometimes it’s a failure, but in this case it’s not.”

“What will you do with them?”

“We’ll study them. Care for them for as long as they’re alive.”

Zayn didn’t like the sound of that last part. “For as long as they’re alive.” Cats didn’t live as long as humans did, and he didn’t want to ask if Harry had a human’s life span, or a cat’s. And he began to think it was dumb anyway, to be friends with a science experiment. Harry wasn’t even a real boy. Zayn just thought of plenty of excuses to not visit Harry anymore, and thankfully, his dad didn’t ask him why. He didn’t feel like explaining. Sometimes he gets sad thinking about Harry’s bright green eyes.

But he’s back from uni for the summer, and he’s not sure how he’ll spend his days. His parents are elated, and his sisters won’t stop pestering him, but he doesn’t mind because it’s so good to be home.

For years, he hasn’t asked his dad about the status on Harry and the other hybrids, mainly because he doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to know if something has gone wrong with the experiment, or worse, if they’ve passed on. Yaser doesn’t speak much about his work, as if he knows it’s a taboo with his son. But today, it’s different.

“The hybrids are doing very well,” he says at dinner. “We’ve been monitoring them closely for years, and they show no signs of fast aging. They go about it normally, just like humans.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but he stops chewing his food for a moment. He glances up at his father, who’s looking at him knowingly.

“Harry’s doing well,” he continues on. “We’re worried about his speech though. His brothers and sisters are doing just fine, but he can’t seem to talk. Other than that, he’s fine. He’s healthy. And just a little bit taller than you, Zayn.”

Zayn’s mother grins, “Harry? The curly-haired one? He was precious as a baby.” She pauses, and tilts her head. “Or do we call them kittens?”

Zayn’s parents laugh, but he’s in no mood to join in. He feels a little bad, abandoning Harry like he did, but he needed to grow up, make friends with real people and not with something… fake. Not even a real person. Not even a person at all. It wasn’t Harry’s fault though. But despite all of that, Zayn is relieved to hear that the hybrid will have the life span of a human’s. It had been one of the things he thought about, and now he doesn’t have to anymore.

\- - -

He doesn’t know how to feel when his father walks in two days later with a curly-haired boy with cat ears in tow.

“I’ve talked this over with your mother,” he tells Zayn. “The team thought it would be good for the hybrids to stay in normal homes, to get them accustomed to the world. There’s only so much they can do at the lab.”

Zayn’s barely listening. He’s looking at the boy standing next to his father. Harry is tall, has long limbs, and his curls are swept over his forehead. His gaze is down, and his ears are a bit flattened against his head. He’s probably nervous.

“He’s used to having company, so he’ll stay in your room.”

Zayn finally pays attention, and quickly turns to his father. “What? But–”

“Zayn, please.”

His father has never really asked for much, and Zayn can’t say no. It wouldn’t be fair to let him down, but he’s not really fond of this idea. He stands up from the couch and beckons to Harry before making his way upstairs, and into his bedroom.

“Guess you’ll be staying here,” Zayn says, waving at the space of his room. He doesn’t look at Harry, and he’s not sure what else to say. He feels awkward, and it’s all so rushed. The least his dad could’ve done was warn him. “Maybe they’ll put an extra mattress in here. I dunno.”

He braves a quick glance at Harry. The boy looks different. Well, obviously… Zayn thinks to himself. It’s been seven years since he’s seen him. Zayn wonders if Harry remembers any of it.

“Do you, erm… do you remember me?”

Harry’s ears perk up a little, and he nods. A smile appears on his face, and before Zayn can process another thought, Harry has moved in close and is rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, purring. Zayn perks an eyebrow, and he’s not sure what to do. It’s a bit strange, having another adult male rubbing up against him, but he has to remember what Harry is.

“Yeah, um… okay. Good,” he awkwardly pats Harry’s head and moves away from him. Clearly, the hybrid has no hard feelings. And no sense of personal space, for that matter.

Zayn is relieved when they’re called down to dinner.

Harry eats like a normal person, but he fumbles a little with utensils. The way he drinks is a bit funny, as he brings the glass up to his mouth and laps up the water with his tongue. Safaa giggles, and her mother shushes her.

“Are you excited to be out of the lab, Harry?” Trisha asks.

Harry nods, and he opens his mouth to try and talk, but a meow comes out instead. Safaa bursts into giggles again, but immediately stops after a stern look from her parents.

Zayn just sits there and rubs the bridge of his nose. He expected a calm summer. A boring one. He needs calm and boring after a year away from home, but instead he’s got this. A meowing boy.

He excuses himself, and rushes up to his room, in an attempt to get a little bit of time to himself. The room is no longer his, as he’s got a new roommate against his wishes. Zayn washes up and changes into sweats and a t-shirt before plopping into bed. He takes this time to pretend that there are no guests, and it’s just him in the comfort of his own room. But he hears the door creak open, and he sits up. There’s Harry, all washed up too, in shorts and wearing one of Zayn’s old shirts.

“Gonna sleep now?” Zayn asks, and Harry nods. “Alright, uh… well, I’ll ask mom for an extra cot or something– hey, what are you doing?”

Harry has curled up on the foot of Zayn’s bed, and is staring at him with unblinking eyes.

“You can’t sleep there, Harry, it’s cramped. Let me ask mom–”

Harry cuts him off with a meow, then shakes his head. He shuts his eyes, and curls up into a smaller ball. Zayn is intent on getting him off the bed, but he seems to have already fallen asleep. Zayn watches Harry as he takes a few quick breaths, then it evens out, and he’s sleeping soundly. God, this is just so bizarre. Zayn forces himself to stop thinking, so he can fall asleep faster.

\- - -

Zayn leaves quickly the next morning so he doesn’t have to deal with entertaining Harry. He’s sure his sisters will be more than happy to take on that job. He goes off with his mates for the entire morning, and most of the afternoon, and he tries to prolong their hangout. He’s not looking forward to going home.

It was different when they were younger. Zayn had looked at Harry as more of a pet rather than a playmate, but having a human form was a bit of a perk. He had a real friend and a pet. It was kind of strange how his young mind had worked back then, and how different it is now. He just doesn’t want to be part of this weird experiment, and all he wants is to waste away the hours with his friends, drink, and maybe get off with a few girls. He can’t imagine including Harry in his plans. And he wouldn’t.

Zayn gets back home, and the first thing he sees are his parents looking at him with worried expressions, and it’s suspicious.

“What?” he asks. He turns his head to see Harry in a corner, sitting cross-legged with his head bowed. “Alright, what happened?”

“Sweetheart, don’t–” his mother says, but Zayn is already climbing the stairs up to his room. He throws the door open, and he sees several of his books torn apart, the pages crumpled and ripped. Some of his favorite books, old and with notes written between the lines. His heart drops and he’s numb for a few seconds, but it’s soon replaced with rage.

He walks back downstairs, and he jabs a finger at Harry, “I want him gone,” he says through clenched teeth.

“It’s not his fault,” his father says. “He was curious. You know he’s not fully human, and he’s–”

“A freak,” Zayn snaps. “A lab experiment gone wrong. There’s no place for trash like him, so just get him out of here!”

A whimper comes from the corner of the room, followed by a strangled wail. Zayn looks at Harry, and sees his pained eyes, and he immediately regrets saying those things. Tears are rolling down Harry’s cheeks, and his body trembles. He backs up against the wall, and his ears are flattened against his head.

“Zayn, that’s enough!” Trisha rushes over to Harry, wipes away his tears with her fingers, but there’s a fresh wave soon after, and it’s useless. So she just gently pulls him to his feet and leads him into the kitchen, promising him a mug of warm milk and chocolate biscuits.

Yaser stands there with his arms crossed, and a glare fixed on Zayn. “Don’t ever say that to him again. The hybrids battle with their own identities every day, and we’ve done years of hard work, helping him feel special, helping him feel like he does belong, and he does deserve to have this life. But all that can be undone because of what you said.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything because he understands. He understands questioning one’s own identity, and he knows what he did to Harry. The books are a distant memory now, and he just nods.

He quickly escapes back upstairs, but he avoids his room, and sneaks into his father’s study. He’s looking for something, and he can’t believe his luck because there’s Harry’s file on the desk. Zayn picks it up, and reads through it.

Name: Harry (style#5)  
Birth: Feb. 1, 1994  
Breed: York Chocolate

Zayn goes on his father’s computer, and types in the name of the breed to see if he can get any behavioral information.

He frowns to himself, and thinks that perhaps he was a little too hard on Harry. The pit in his stomach grows. Zayn goes through the file again, and flips through papers he can’t quite understand until he comes across a photograph. He and Harry are about six years old, and they’re napping, curled up against each other, and it’s actually so sweet, it makes his chest hurt. Harry had been his best friend once upon a time, and Zayn has been absolute shit to him ever since he’s come to stay. None of this is Harry’s fault. He’s done nothing wrong, and Zayn should know better.

He hesitantly goes back downstairs, and he sees Harry on the couch watching The Lion King, wrapped up in a blanket and sipping warm milk from a mug which ironically has a cat on it with the caption “You’re purrrfect!” When Harry sees Zayn approaching, he lets out a high-pitched mew and scoots back, almost spilling the milk.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” Zayn says. He’s stopped moving closer, not wanting to frighten him. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry, and it came out all wrong.”

Harry looks at him suspiciously, and he’s clutching the mug so tightly, his fingers turn white. A low growl sounds in his throat.

“You’re not a freak. And you’re not just a lab experiment,” Zayn continues on in an attempt to put things right. He’s not sure how easy this will be.

Harry just snorts with an expression that very clearly says “Aren’t I though?”

“Well, you’re not. I was just being a right prick. First rate prick of the century, and I’m sorry.”

There was no response. Harry turns his head to face the TV screen just as Simba launches into “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King.”

Zayn isn’t sure what else to do, so he just moves closer to the couch, and places the photograph on the cushion. Then he goes back upstairs, gets into bed, and decides to stay there, not even bothering to move when he’s called down to dinner.

It’s dark when he wakes up, and he’s not sure what time it is. He squints at the digital clock next to his bed, and the numbers read 10:34 pm. Not that late. He’s about to shut his eyes again, but the door creaks open, and he props himself up on his elbows and sees Harry standing by the doorway. The hybrid looks conflicted, like he doesn’t know whether to go inside, or just leave.

“Come in,” Zayn says, and Harry looks relieved at the words, and he immediately steps inside, and shuts the door behind him. Zayn notices he’s clutching at the photograph, and the left corner of his mouth twitches up a little. “You forgive me?”

Harry hesitates, then nods. He makes his way over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, and he’s glancing at Zayn like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how.

“What is it?” Zayn asks.

Harry releases his bottom lip, lifts the photograph and points to it, then points to the bed. It takes Zayn a few seconds to understand what he’s trying to say.

“You want to, um… sleep next to me?”

Harry nods.

Zayn’s not sure about this, but he’s not completely put off with the idea. He recalls that York Chocolate cats like to be held and cuddled, so all Zayn has to do is think of Harry as pure cat. 100% cat. He rolls his eyes at himself because no amount of pretending can cover up the fact that he looks completely human. A beautiful human, at that. And Zayn mentally scolds himself for thinking such a thing. He shouldn’t be thinking that, not with Harry. But he just sighs and scoots over, making room for the boy.

Harry grins, lays down and snuggles into the pillow. Purrs rumble in his throat, and it goes on for ages, and it only gets louder when Zayn tentatively reaches over to scratch behind his ears.

“Jesus, that’s loud. Go to sleep.”

Something that sounds like a giggle escapes Harry’s lips, and the purrs finally subside as he gives in to sleep.

So much for a boring summer.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to his first house party.

Two weeks or so have passed, and Harry has settled in a bit more. He constantly follows Zayn around, and Zayn finds it a little weird at first, but he becomes used to it. Though he draws the line when Harry starts to follow him into the bathroom.

“You can’t come with me in here, Harry,” Zayn says as Harry tries to follow him through the bathroom door.

Harry tilts his head as if to say “Why not?”

Zayn sighs, “I’ve got to take a shower. And it’s not exactly proper for you to follow another person into the shower. People need privacy.”

But Harry doesn’t budge.

“Go find my mom. She’ll get you chocolate biscuits.”

This distracts Harry for a little bit, and it gives Zayn enough time to shut the door and lock it. A whine erupts from the other side of the door. Harry jiggles the doorknob and he scratches at the wood, whimpering for Zayn to let him inside, but Zayn’s not going to give in. This goes on for a few more minutes, and Harry is incredibly stubborn, and the way he’s going about it, Zayn’s afraid the hybrid is going to end up crying.

So he’s forced to open the door.

Harry’s eyes are bright with tears, but as the door opens, he breaks out into a large grin, and immediately brushes past Zayn to walk inside. It’s ridiculous, really, and Zayn’s unsure how to shower with someone else in here. He goes into the shower and rids himself of his clothes there, then tosses them over the shower curtain. He hears rustling on the other side, and he slides the curtain aside to see that Harry is playing with his clothes. Zayn rolls his eyes. Harry gets distracted so easily.

After his shower, he makes sure the towel is snug around his waist before he steps out. Harry is wearing Zayn’s shirt on his head and he’s playing with the belt buckle. But he looks up as soon as Zayn is finished, and he smiles, then scrambles to his feet.

“You’re so weird,” Zayn tweaks Harry’s nose playfully, then takes the shirt from him.

Zayn finds ways to have time alone, especially when Harry is distracted and playing, or when he’s napping. But when Harry’s attention is on him, which is often, he’s got to find ways to entertain the boy. Lately, he’s been reading to Harry, mostly children’s books because that’s what he enjoys the most. Zayn reads him “The Giving Tree,” and Harry snuggles up against his side, resting his head on his shoulder so he could get a good look at the pictures. Zayn has to tilt his head a little because Harry’s ear is always twitching, and it tickles his cheek. But he thinks it’s kind of cute.

Harry likes “The Giving Tree.” He takes a piece of paper and starts to write a note to Zayn. He’s learned how to write back at the lab, and it’s the best way to communicate, though he’s not very good at it yet. Harry doesn’t like to pay attention during his lessons, and would rather play instead.

“I’m tree.” He writes. He points to his note, then he points to Zayn.

Zayn smiles because he understands it. Harry is trying to tell him that he’ll be Zayn’s Giving Tree. Selfless and constant. It’s a sweet thing to say, and Zayn gently rubs the top of his head, just behind his ears. It’s Harry’s favorite spot, and he purrs loudly.

The next day, Zayn’s mother pops a DVD into the player, “I’ve got a surprise for you boys!” she squeals.

Zayn lowers “Where the Wild Things Are,” and Harry sits up a little straighter, now curious.

A movie starts. A home movie due to the shaky camera angles, and Zayn can hear his father speaking. “Here’s Harry and Zayn in the playroom!” he says, and the camera zooms in on two small boys coloring on pieces of paper. Zayn’s eyes widen a little, and he laughs, then shakes his head. This is bound to be embarrassing. Harry on the other hand is so excited, he’s tugging on Zayn’s arm and pointing at the screen.

Their five-year old selves are so immersed in their drawings. In the video, they’re asked what they’re drawing, and little Zayn proudly holds up a picture of two stick figures; one with cat ears, and one without. “Harry an’ me!” he says. The camera moves over to Harry who is grinning, displaying his chubby dimpled cheeks. He looks like a little angel. The scene cuts to the both of them underneath a makeshift fort, and laying down in sleeping bags. “Nap time!” says Zayn’s father, and Zayn is whining “Five more minutes!” But Harry’s eyes are drooping, and his tail is curling slowly and lazily. Zayn reaches out with a small hand and catches it, and the both of them giggle. Harry yawns, his mouth making a little “o” and he scoots closer to Zayn. He lets out a faint kitten “mew” and his eyes shut. Sleepiness seems to be infectious with children because Zayn is falling asleep seconds later. The camera continues filming until they’re both fast asleep, with their little arms around each other, and Zayn still clutching on to Harry’s tail.

As the screen goes black, Zayn realizes that he remembers that day, and how he felt, and how much he loved Harry. The sweet, innocent, wholesome love that a child can give another. He feels a pang of guilt as he recalls how he had just left him out of nowhere, and the pain worsens because Harry had been so forgiving. He turns his head to look at Harry, who’s already staring at him, and they both smile.

“Come out with me,” Zayn says, and it takes Harry less than a second to nod.

\- - -

Zayn fixes the beanie on Harry’s head, making sure it’s nice and snug. “I like your ears, but we wouldn’t want people asking about them. Does that feel okay?”

Harry nods, and as Zayn is fixing the beanie, he busies himself by rubbing his fingers against the stubble on Zayn’s chin. Zayn has grown accustomed to Harry’s constant affection, and he finds that he doesn’t even mind it anymore. And it’s probably just the cat side of him. Very affectionate, always needing to move, and do something.

“Try not to meow, alright? I’ll tell people you’ve got a sore throat, and that’s why you can’t talk.” Zayn moves behind Harry to check if his tail is completely tucked in his jeans. “How’s your tail feel?”

Harry meows in reply, but he abruptly cuts himself off. He needs to practice not doing that in public, so he just nods.

Zayn takes a step back to admire his work. He didn’t have to do much to fix Harry up, but he looks different somehow. Just a normal boy in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled a bit, jeans, Converse, and a grey beanie. He’s perfect.

Zayn shakes his head. He doesn’t mean perfect in that way, but perfect in that Harry could pass for a normal boy, and Zayn suddenly feels stupid because he’s arguing with his own head. “You look good,” he says, and he pretends not to notice the light blush on Harry’s cheeks.

One of his mates is having a house party just a few blocks down, and Zayn doesn’t plan on staying too long because he isn’t sure how Harry will handle it. But if the whole point of Harry staying over was to bring him out into society, then what better way to do it than with a house party?

The music is loud, and the large living room is crowded. Harry clutches on to Zayn’s arm, and his wide eyes dart around nervously. He has never been around this many people, and it’s so loud. His ears twitch beneath the beanie, and he tightens his grip on Zayn.

Zayn leans in close to him, “It’s okay.” And he pries Harry’s fingers from his arm because he doesn’t want his friends to get the wrong idea about them. Harry looks a little hurt, but he lets go of Zayn’s arm, and lowers his hands to his sides.

“Zayn!” a voice calls out, and it’s Niall. He makes his way over, and Zayn’s suddenly nervous. He doesn’t want anyone judging Harry, and maybe this was a bad idea, but it’s already too late.

“Hey, bro. This is Harry. He’s kinda staying with us, so I brought him with me if that’s cool.”

“That’s cool. I don’t know half these people anyway,” Niall extends a hand, giving Harry’s a firm shake. “I’m Niall.”

Zayn quickly cuts in again, “He’s got a sore throat. Can’t talk. Doctor’s orders.”

“The cure of a sore throat is a couple of tequila shots!”

And Zayn’s nerves start acting up again because he doesn’t know Harry’s tolerance for alcohol. He’s one hundred percent sure the hybrid’s never had a drop of that stuff in his life, but before he knows it, a shot glass is pushed into Harry’s hand.

“Harry,” Zayn takes a hold of his wrist. “Don’t–”

But Harry, who has insatiable curiosity, moves away from Zayn, sniffs the drink, and downs it in one gulp. His eyes widen like saucers, and he makes a face before going into a coughing fit.

“Oh shit,” Zayn grumbles, and he rubs Harry’s back. “Stay here. Don’t you dare move. I’m going to find you some water.”

He weaves through the bodies, occasionally saying hi to people he recognizes, and goes into the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water. When he comes back to the same spot, Harry is nowhere to be found. Zayn takes a deep breath and tries not to panic, but he can’t help it. He assures himself that Harry can’t have gone far as he was away for only five minutes, but self-assurance can only do so much. He scours the living room, before making his way out back through a sliding glass door. Zayn lets out a sigh of relief when he spots Harry on the other side of the yard, but the relief soon turns into slight jealousy because he’s surrounded by girls.

Zayn stomps over to him, and grabs his arm. He notices the boy is holding a red plastic cup with beer. “I told you not to go anywhere,” he snaps, and Harry just stares at him, unblinking. “Are you listening to me?”

A girl giggles and says, “He’s a lightweight, huh?” she licks her ruby red lips and moves closer to Harry. Zayn’s disgusted by this, and drags Harry away.

“What part of ‘stay here’ don’t you understand?”

But Harry’s not answering. He smiles instead, and sways a little.

“Shit, Harry, how much have you had? Those small glasses, did you have more?”

Harry nods.

“How much?”

He holds up four fingers.

Zayn grabs the plastic cup from him and looks inside. More than half of it was gone, and he wonders how the fuck Harry could down that much in such a short period of time. But of course, the hybrid wouldn’t know how to pace himself. He doesn’t know the rules of alcohol.

“We’re going home,” Zayn says, and he grabs Harry by the arm, but Harry yanks it back and shakes his head. “Harry, I said we’re going home.” Harry shakes his head again, and replies with a whine. Zayn knows if Harry doesn’t get his way, he’ll throw a tantrum, and he doesn’t want it happening in front of a crowd. But enough was enough, and Harry can be mad all he wants, but they need to get home. Zayn doesn’t care anymore, and he grabs Harry’s wrist and starts to pull him back inside, and towards the front door. Harry is struggling the entire way, but Zayn is unrelenting.

The drive back home is quiet, except for the growls sounding in Harry’s throat. When they finally get home, Zayn is exhausted. He kicks off his shoes, and goes into the bathroom to wash up before bed. He takes his time because he’s not to keen on the idea of facing an angry and drunk hybrid, and he’s not exactly sure what to expect. But he’s got to go back to his room eventually.

Harry’s pissed. He’s letting out a bunch of angry meows, and hisses, and Zayn has to hide a smile because he just can’t take it seriously. Harry sees that Zayn isn’t threatened by his anger, so he takes a piece of paper, scribbles on it, crumples it up, and hurls it at him.

Zayn picks up the paper, smooths it out, and it reads “NO” in capital letters.

“Now you listen here,” Zayn says as he advances towards him. “I’m not going to take you anywhere again unless you do what I say. I told you to stay, but did you stay? No, you went off and let a bunch of cheap girls put cheap booze in you. You’re my responsibility, Harry. You’re my dad’s responsibility. If anything happens to you, we’re the ones that get blamed. Do you want that? Do you want us to get in trouble? Would it make you feel good about yourself?”

Harry’s bottom lip is quivering at this point, and he shakes his head slowly. And before Zayn can speak another word, Harry lunges forward, wraps his arms around him, and nuzzles into his neck. He’s whimpering, and wanting to be forgiven. Zayn just sighs and pats the top of his head. But Harry’s not stopping, and he’s pressing small kisses to Zayn’s throat, and it catches him off guard a little.

“Harry, what–” and he’s silenced by a small bite Harry gives the side of his neck. It doesn’t hurt, but Harry runs his tongue across it as if apologizing, and it makes Zayn’s legs a little wobbly. He walks backwards until his legs hit the bed, and he falls down on it. Harry crawls on top of him, and hovers over him for a moment before lowering himself and pressing kisses all over Zayn’s face.

Zayn shuts his eyes and accepts the kisses, because for some reason it’s much easier to do so in the darkness and privacy of his room. He places his hands on Harry’s waist, and stops breathing when he feels a pair of lips close around his earlobe.

“Harry,” Zayn finally manages to whisper. “Stop. You’re drunk.” But Harry doesn’t stop, and he’s licking the skin just below Zayn’s ear. Zayn can’t be doing this. It’s wrong, and his dad would kill him. Also, Harry was under the influence of alcohol, so Zayn couldn’t let this happen even if he did want it. Even if Harry’s the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen, and he’s on top of him, showering sweet kisses on his skin. He can’t do this. Zayn gently pushes Harry off him, and Harry is looking at him, confused. “We can’t,” Zayn says. “We’re… we just can’t. And you’ve had too much to drink. You would’ve regretted it in the morning.”

Harry shakes his head, and tries to move closer to him, but Zayn places a hand on his chest to keep him back.

“Don’t,” Zayn whispers. “Because I know I won’t stop myself.” He’s surprised that he comes out with the truth, and it’s too late to take it back.

Harry just stares at him with those big green eyes. _Electric green_ , Zayn thinks to himself. And they lock gazes for what seems like forever, until Harry backs off and finally lays down next to him. There’s a few inches of space between them, but Harry eventually scoots closer and wraps his arm around Zayn’s waist. Zayn sighs, brushes his nose against Harry’s curls, and relaxes. This was a whole new thing to deal with, and it was something he didn’t expect. But he tries to push it out of his mind as he gives into sleep.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing good comes easy.

Zayn notices that Harry has been braver in his advances, and it’s gotten worse since that drunken night. He has to keep pushing the hybrid away from him, especially with his parents around, but it’s not so easy.

“Harry, you’ve got to stop,” Zayn mumbles under his breath, as he grabs a hold of Harry’s hand which was inching up his shirt.

Harry just grunts, and he usually backs off when he’s told, but he’ll be at it again in about half an hour. It’s not that Zayn doesn’t feel anything, it’s just that he shouldn’t be. He’s conflicted, and he knows the consequences won’t be good if he ever decided to give into Harry’s demands.

Today, Harry has calmed down a little after a bit of scolding from Zayn, but he’s grumpy, and he growls loudly whenever Zayn comes near. So as a truce, Zayn is heating up some milk for him, and making a peanut butter sandwich. He cuts the crust off the bread just how Harry likes it, then cuts it into triangles. Harry is perched on the counter, and watches him through the corner of his eye. He’s still a little miffed, but the sight of the sandwich eases his anger a bit.

“Are you going to stop being annoyed with me?” Zayn sets the plate on the counter next to Harry, and looks at him. Harry then grunts, takes one half of the sandwich, and eats in silence. Zayn sighs, leans against the counter, and gently takes a hold of Harry’s tail, stroking it gently. He notices that Harry shivers a little, and Zayn smiles to himself, and repeats the action. Harry stops in mid-chew, and purrs, but he quickly stops as if he remembers that he’s supposed to be annoyed, and shoves what’s left of the half sandwich in his mouth before starting on the next one. “Harry, please–”

Harry growls, and hops off the counter. He takes his mug, and his sandwich, and he goes to the family room to watch some television. Zayn follows, and he takes a seat on the couch, but keeps somewhat of a distance.

“I know you’re sore with me,” Zayn says, and Harry replies with a ‘hmph.’ “But you can’t keep… doing what you’re doing. It’s not right.”

Harry whips his head around to look at him, and he hisses. He shoves the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and it bulges in his cheek as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out the pad of paper and pencil he always carries around. He scribbles on it and hands it to Zayn. ’Not right?! I am human like you! Alive! Is right!’

“I know you’re alive, Harry. And I know you’re human,” Zayn runs his fingers through his hair in frustration because he doesn’t know how to make Harry get it without saying the wrong thing. But nothing will come out right in this case. “My dad won’t like it. We just… we can’t. We’re too different, you and I.”

Harry shakes his head, and starts writing again. ’Not different. Arms, legs, feelings, and heart. Not different.’

Zayn crumples up the note in his hand, and stands up. “You don’t understand. This will get me in trouble. Is that what you want?” His anger gets the best of him, and he tosses the note on the ground. Harry’s eyes widen, and he moves over to Zayn, tugging on his shirt, and urging him to sit back down on the couch. “No,” Zayn tries to push his hands away, but Harry is persistent. He wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist, and whimpers, then nuzzles into his stomach.

It’s difficult, and Zayn often has moments of weakness. He tangles his fingers through Harry’s hair, and gently strokes his little cat ears, trying to keep himself in check. But Harry is beautiful and irresistible, and weeks of forcing himself not to cross that line has taken its toll. Harry stands up, and he digs his fingertips into Zayn’s waist while staring at him, his eyes holding a desperate plea. He opens his mouth, and nothing comes out, and he looks frustrated with himself. He shakes his head, and opens his mouth again. A growl sounds in his throat, so he just shuts his mouth and his teeth clenches, while his eyes fill with tears. Zayn knows it’s difficult for him and he feels a rush of pity for the hybrid.

“It’s okay…” Zayn tugs him in, but Harry resists and he shakes his head, then glares at him like he’s saying ’no, it’s not.’ And maybe he’s right. It really isn’t. But he tries to pull Harry close to him again, and Harry is having none of it. He breaks away from Zayn’s grasp, and stomps away into a different room, then slams the door shut. Zayn just stands there, not sure what to do, but he figures it’ll be best to leave Harry alone for now. He trudges up the stairs to his room, lays down, and shuts his eyes.

\- - -

Zayn wakes up thirty minutes later, and he rubs his eyes and sits up in his bed. Maybe Harry has calmed down a little, so he makes his way downstairs, and calls out “Harry?” He waits for a moment, but Harry isn’t showing up. Zayn checks all the rooms, and underneath the beds. He looks inside every closet, and goes out to the backyard. A cold sweat forms on his skin when he realizes Harry has left the house without him. Zayn grabs a beanie, tugs it on, and rushes out the door.

“Harry!” he’s shouting, ignoring the strange looks he’s receiving from people. “Harry, where are you?!” Zayn’s shoes pound on the pavement, and his heart is racing so quickly, it almost hurts. He doesn’t even know where to start looking for the hybrid, and he dreads having to tell his father. So he comes to the conclusion that he won’t come home until he finds Harry. He looks around, sees a man at a newspaper stand, and goes up to him. “Did a boy pass by recently? Tall, brown curly hair, and–” he chooses his words carefully. “He’s wearing fake cat ears and a tail.”

The man snorts. “Yeah, crazy kid with the cat ears. Went that way.” He points straight ahead, and Zayn wastes no time running in that direction. He’s hoping Harry wouldn’t have gone too far, and he’s also counting on the fact that it shouldn’t be that hard to find a boy with ears and a tail. Zayn starts asking around, and he’s relieved that people have seen Harry pass by, but he has yet to see him. He stops at a corner to catch his breath, and his heart is sinking a little, but he’s not even thinking about giving up.

Then he sees him.

A weight is lifted from Zayn’s chest, and he starts crossing the street towards him, but something is wrong. Harry is backed up against a wall, and three boys are advancing, and from here he can see a bruise on Harry’s cheek. A heated rage shoots through Zayn’s body, and he runs to the scene. One of the boys has raised his fist to Harry, and Zayn doesn’t even think as he tackles him to the ground before he could land the punch. His fingers curl into a tight fist, and he pummels it hard against the boy’s face.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Zayn screams as he throws another punch. He feels himself get dragged to his feet, and the boy’s two other friends shove him back against the wall next to Harry. But Zayn immediately steps in front of the hybrid, shielding him with his body. “I’ll fucking kill you if you touch him!” he shouts again, and he notices that the commotion is starting to draw a crowd, but he doesn’t move from his spot. He can hear Harry whimpering behind him.

The three boys notice the crowd, and they take off running to avoid more trouble. Zayn watches them go before turning around to face Harry. He’s about to scold him, and just unleash every bit of anger, but it all melts away when he sees his tear-stained face and wide frightened eyes. Harry wails, and he throws himself into Zayn’s arms, his body trembling.

Zayn holds him tightly, and he strokes his hair, “It’s okay,” he murmurs as he presses light kisses against the side of his head. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you, okay? You’re safe.” Harry hiccups and wipes at his eyes, then he pulls back so he can take the beanie from Zayn’s head, and pull it over his ears. Zayn gives him a small shaky smile, then he puts his arms around him, and they start to walk home.

Harry clings to him all the way home, and Zayn occasionally turns his head to kiss Harry’s cheek and whisper that he’s safe, and Harry would reply with a faint “mew.”

Zayn is thankful nobody’s home, so he hurries Harry up to his bedroom while he gets some ice and a towel. Harry winces as Zayn presses the ice to the bruise on his cheek, but other than that, he doesn’t protest.

“You left because you were mad at me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low and even so Harry doesn’t get upset. The hybrid just nods. “Why did those boys attack you?” Harry’s bottom lip quivers a little, and he points to his ears and his tail. Then he reaches out for a pen and paper, and he writes.

’i guess different after all.’

Zayn frowns, and he shakes his head. “No,” he runs his fingertips over the bruise. “They’re stupid, ignorant bastards who don’t understand. You’re unique, and… and perfect, and beautiful.” His cheeks heat up, and he lowers his gaze. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” he says quietly. “And some people won’t understand it, but I do.” He makes himself look up, and Harry is staring at him, unmoving, as if he’s afraid to. But Zayn doesn’t care about right and wrong anymore, and all he wants is to be happy, and the only way he’ll have that is if Harry is happy. So he leans in, hesitates for half a second, then slowly presses his lips to Harry’s.

The kiss is slow and tentative, but it becomes sweet and firm, and Zayn can feel Harry smile against his lips. Harry breaks the kiss so he can lay down on the bed, and he gazes up at Zayn with big adoring eyes. He takes his plump bottom lip in between his teeth, and he shyly reaches over to tug on the button of Zayn’s jeans.

Zayn’s brows draw together, and he gets it. His lips part, and his throat becomes dry. “A-Are you sure?”

Harry nods.

They peel each others clothes off, and Zayn showers Harry’s skin with soft kisses, and he squirms and mewls beneath his touch. It’s strange at first for the both of them, but they manage to find their rhythm, and it’s all whimpers, moans, and breathing. Harry’s ankles are locked around Zayn’s waist, and he gasps at every movement, dragging his nails down the other boy’s back, making long red marks. They reach their peak in unison, and they lock eyes, not breaking their gaze until they come down from their high.

\- - -

The weeks come and go, and Zayn almost forgets that he has to go back to school. But leaving without Harry just isn’t an option, and he plans on taking the boy with him. The hard part was just telling his father.

“Back to school in a week,” Yaser says with a grin, and Zayn responds with a weak smile of his own. “Are you excited?”

This is it. It’s now or never. “I’m taking Harry with me,” Zayn says quickly. Silence follows, and he avoids looking at his father’s face. “Dad, I’m sorry, but he can’t be without me. He won’t be happy without me, so I’ve got to take him. I’m getting a flat by campus, and I’ll get a job to pay for it, so you and mom won’t have to help out, but you’ve got to let me take Harry. He’ll be better with me, he can’t.. he can’t stay here, okay?”

He manages to look at his father’s face, and his expression is blank. Unreadable. “I knew it,” is all he says.

Zayn looks down again, “Knew what?”

“You and Harry. I had a feeling. Zayn, I’m sorry but I just can’t let that happen, and you know I can’t let it happen.”

“Dad, please–”

“No!” Zayn’s father becomes furious, and he slams a hand against the table. “He is a hybrid, and you’re human! You’re both completely different. Do you think you can just walk out there, and people will be okay with it?”

Zayn grits his teeth. “Aren’t you the one who told me that he’s not so different from us? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling him all his life? And now that he’s found love with me–”

“Because it’s with YOU! I’m not going to let some passing fancy with an experiment ruin my son’s life!”

Zayn doesn’t reply, and he storms out, slamming the door of his father’s study. He quickly makes his way to his bedroom, then shuts the door, and locks it.

“We’re packing,” he says to Harry. Harry looks up from his drawing, eyeing him curiously. “We’re leaving early tomorrow, and I’m taking you with me.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and he smiles. He throws himself into Zayn’s arms, and hugs him tightly before letting go to grab a bag, shoving coloring books, and a few stuffed animals inside.

Zayn chuckles, “Is that your version of packing?” But he lets Harry pack whatever he wants, and he decides he’ll take care of the important things. He’s not happy to be disobeying his father, but this has to be done. He wasn’t going to abandon Harry ever again.

\- - -

The alarm goes off at exactly 5 am, and Zayn hates waking up at any time before noon, but he has to force himself.

“Harry,” he mumbles, and he reaches over, expecting to find the warmth of Harry’s body, but it’s just cold empty bedsheets. Zayn sits up in a panic. “Harry?” he sees their packed bags by the closet, then he rubs his eyes, and looks at his bedroom door. He swore he locked it last night, but now it’s open. He quickly gets out of bed, runs out of his room, and hurries downstairs. “Harry! Where are–” and he stops abruptly when he sees his father in the living room, with two other men Zayn recognizes as scientists from the lab. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this, and he’s afraid to ask what they’re doing here. His head is swimming, and he needs to hold on to something. “Where’s Harry?” he manages to whisper.

His father rubs his tired eyes, and he looks worn down and absolutely beat. The other two by his side don’t look any better. “Zayn…” he says.

Zayn takes a step forward, his entire body shaking. “Tell me where Harry is right now.”

The three men look at each other, like what they’re about to say isn’t easy, and Zayn can feel himself going crazy with each passing second of silence.

“It had to be done for your own good, son,” his father says, unable to meet his eyes. There’s more hesitation, and then he finally says it. “We put Harry down an hour ago.”


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter.

The last thing Zayn remembers is a searing pain in his head, before everything turned black. Now he’s in his bed, and for a moment he still thinks Harry is sleeping next to him. He turns to lay on his side, and reaches out to pull Harry close. But there’s nobody there. He sits up quickly, and everything comes flooding back all at once.

We put Harry down an hour ago.

Suddenly, he can’t breathe. He grips at the bedsheets, and he feels another fainting spell coming on, but he forces himself to be stable. He rushes out of the room, and he screams, “DAD!” Zayn bursts into his father’s study, but he’s not there. He goes downstairs, and continues to scream at the top of his lungs. “DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

His mother rushes into the family room. Her eyes are red and a little puffy. “Zayn, what–”

“He killed him!” Zayn places his hand against the wall for support. “Dad killed Harry.” His insides feel like they’re ripping apart, and he can no longer hold his own body up. He sinks down to the floor, and his eyes are blurry with tears. When his mother kneels down next to him and pulls him into his arms, he bursts out into loud aching sobs. He grips on to her and cries until he has no energy left, and he’s just a quivering mess in his mother’s arms. “I h-have to go to the lab,” he makes an attempt to stand up, but he’s still shaking.

“No, sweetheart,” she says gently. “Don’t put yourself through more pain.”

Zayn shakes his head, and staggers up to his feet despite his mother’s protests. He goes to the front door, slips on his shoes, grabs the car keys, and leaves.

\- - -

They try to keep him from passing through, but Zayn is adamant, and he’s in tears again.

“I just want to see his room,” he keeps repeating, trying to push past them. “I just want to see his room, please let me see his room.”

One of the scientists, a woman Zayn recognizes from his father’s team, steps forward. “Let him through,” she says. “It’s okay.” She looks at him with pity in her eyes, and she motions for him to follow. She leads him down the familiar hallway, but it’s all a blur to him. They come to a stop, and she unlocks the door, then opens it. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, and he steps inside.

“I just need a moment,” Zayn says, and she nods before shutting the door behind him. He makes his way around the room, lightly touching Harry’s belongings. The stuffed animals, toy cars, and unfinished drawings. He makes his way to the bed, and he lays down on it, burying his face into the pillow. It smells faintly like Harry. He kicks off his shoes, pulls the blanket over himself, and clutches the pillow, crying into it until it’s damp.

He’s not sure how long he’s been there, but he feels someone gently squeezing his shoulder. He ignores it, and doesn’t move from his spot, but he opens his eyes when something is pushed into his hand. It’s a piece of paper. Zayn smooths it out, and there’s an address written down.

“Castlerock, Northern Ireland,” he reads the last part out loud, then he looks around for any sign of whoever it was that gave him the note. But he’s alone.

\- - -

Zayn doesn’t tell his parents he’s leaving. He buys a plane ticket and leaves early the next morning. He has absolutely no idea what to expect, and he has no idea why he’s going to a place just because a little piece of paper tells him so.

It’s a long journey by plane, and he still has to take a cab, and a train. He’s exhausted by the time he arrives to the small seaside village of Castlerock.

It’s a quaint place, peaceful, and picturesque, at least compared to the noise and crowds of London. He asks around, showing people the address, and someone offers to give him a lift.

It’s a medium-sized white house, isolated, and surrounded by a field, and he can see the ocean in the distance. He approaches the house, and there’s an old woman out front watering some flowers. She sees him, and she straightens up, greeting him with a smile.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Zayn hesitates, unsure how to explain. “Um, I don’t know. I was given the address to this house, and…” he shakes his head. “I’m not sure why I’m here. I came from London.”

“I have a niece in London,” the old woman says happily. “Very important job too. I tell her she’ll be the one to cure cancer.”

He just nods. What was the point of being here? There was nothing on that paper. Just an address, with no explanation. It was a mistake. He just needs to go home, and mourn in his own way, and chasing clues isn’t how he should go about it. “Sorry, I’ll just go.”

“She’s wonderful,” the woman continues. “She’s sent me a sweet boy to help around the house– oh, there he is.”

Zayn looks towards the direction she’s pointing to, and he thinks it’s a dream, or a hallucination, or a trick of the eye. It can’t be. His father told him Harry was dead, so this can’t be real. This has to be a joke, or maybe it’s something he’ll wake up from. And Zayn waits to jolt awake, but it never comes, and he slowly begins to accept the fact that he’s awake, and this is real. The boy in the distance is tall with cat ears on top of his curly hair, and tail swishing back and forth. Up until this point, Zayn’s insides had been cold, and numb, but he suddenly comes alive with every emotion possible, bursting through his body, igniting his skin and bones.

“Poor thing has gotten into a bit of trouble,” the woman explains. “But he’s safe here. Folks have taken a liking to him.”

A sob escapes Zayn’s throat, and he sees that Harry finally spots him. The boy stops walking for a second, like he’s wondering if Zayn is actually there. When it hits him that he’s not dreaming, he breaks out into a run, and doesn’t stop until their bodies collide, and they’re gripping at each other tightly like they’ll never let go.

“Harry… Harry..” Zayn whispers his name over and over, and he presses kisses to his shoulder, to the side of his neck, and on his face. He pulls back to look at him, just to make sure that he’s there, and he’s real. And he is. He’s real. Harry’s green eyes, his dimpled grin, his messy hair, his scent, and his warmth, it’s all there. They stand for a while, in each other’s arms, their gazes locked, breathing in each other, and taking in this impossible moment. Zayn breaks the silence and murmurs, “I love you.”

And Harry mouths back silently, “ _I love you_.”

“Oh!” the old woman claps her hands together, and the two boys look at her, almost forgetting that she was there. “You’re Zayn!”

Zayn raises his eyebrows curiously. “How do you know my name?”

She laughs, “It’s the only word he knows how to say.”

Zayn whips his head back to look at Harry, his eyes wide, and his mouth open in shock.

Harry just smiles, and kisses him.


End file.
